


Me. Her. Us.

by Lynedele



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-16 20:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7282639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynedele/pseuds/Lynedele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Had some ideas, wanted to put them together. Not really sure if there is a want or need for Rizzles smut or fluff. If you want me to continue writing - let me know. I have my other priority stories, but I have many ideas for Rizzles - just don't know if there's a want for it.  This is smut/fluff for now. Who knows what it turns into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Maura!” I hollered walking through the sliding doors into the autopsy room. The dark blonde was standing over the cadaver in her typical black Cherokee scrubs, purple nitrile gloves, and splash glasses.  She was holding a small digital recorder in one hand and examining the body’s left hand with the other – commenting on the fingernails.   She looked up when I hollered her name and met my eyes as I strode into the room, the heels of my boots heavy on the floor.

 

 

 

 

“Hello, Jane.”

 

 

 

 

“Maur – did the DNA results from skin under the first vic’s fingernails come back yet?

 

 

 

 

“You know an interesting fact about DNA: did you know that the human genome is so incredible vast that it would take a person of average typing speed 400 hours to type out the genome?”

 

 

 

 

“Fascinating…what about the results, Maura?”

 

 

 

 

“You can’t rush processing, Jane.  One little mistake could skew the results.”

 

 

 

 

“You’re killing me, Maura.”

 

 

 

 

“Highly unlikely.”

 

 

 

 

“What do we have with vic number two?” I asked, putting on some gloves.

 

 

 

 

“The entry wound size is consistent with the first vic. Due to the lack of GSR and soot, as well as a lack of tattooing, the shot came from a distance of greater than 4 feet.”

 

 

 

 

“Same as the first…”

 

 

 

 

“Te gunshot wounds are consistent, yes. Help me turn him over?”

 

 

 

 

I reached for the body and aided Maura in turning the man in his late-40’s over as I had done several times before.

 

 

 

 

Maura’s expression tightened as she focused on, what I assumed, was retrieving the bullet.

 

 

 

 

“The bullet is lodged into the second left intercostal space… there.” she affirmed, pulling out the bullet and setting it into a tin bowl before cleaning off the blood and tissue.

 

 

 

 

She handed me the cleaned bullet and I put it under the scope immediately.  “It has the same markings as the first bullet,” I said before putting the bullet into an evidence bag.

 

 

 

 

“Dr. Isles, here’s the results of the DNA you requested,” a tech assistant stated handing Maura a closed file.

 

 

 

 

“Thank you Logan.”

 

 

 

 

 

“What is it?” I asked

 

 

 

 

“The DNA matches your suspect…”

 

 

 

 

“Okay, thank you Maura,” I called, taking off my gloves and heading for the door.

 

 

 

 

“But,” she interrupted me, “the DNA from this human is female, not male.”

 

 

 

 

“Wait, what?” I stopped just short of hitting the door before turning around and walking towards her, reaching for the folder.  “What does this mean?”

 

 

 

 

“Well, the probability of two different people matching DNA at all 13 loci is 10-13.”

 

 

 

 

“In English…?”

 

 

 

 

“It’s virtually zero… unless…”

 

 

 

 

“Unless what Maura?”

 

 

 

 

“Identical twins have the same DNA – including the sex chromosomes.  A sperm will either carry an X or Y chromosome, and once the egg is fertilized, it does not change. However,” she began going over to her laptop to look into something.  “There are some instances – very rare- where identical twins could be different sexes.”

 

 

 

 

“What would cause that?”

 

 

 

 

“There are two scenarios I can think of.  The first is if the egg contained a mixture of sex chromosomes - meaning, it had one extra sex chromosome. During cellular division, one of the sex chromosomes was “lost” so to speak resulting in an XX and an XY.  The second scenario is that the egg is fertilized with a Y chromosome and one of the embryos didn’t gain the Y, causing the embryo to have an XO chromosome pair which results in Turner’s Syndrome.”

 

 

 

 

“So I’m looking for a female twin?”

 

 

 

 

“Yes – who would most likely have Turner’s syndrome. The second scenario is more probable than the first.”

 

 

 

 

“So we’d be looking for…?”

 

 

 

 

“A woman of short stature, possible webbed neck, swelled hands and ankles – oh and their chest may be very broad with little breast development.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Thank you, Maura.  You’re amazing,” I exclaimed running out of the autopsy room.

 

***                                                                                                                                                                              ***

 

 

 

 

“Okay, Bill…” I said sitting in the chair opposite of the middle-aged man. His light brown hair looked messy as if he had been running his fingers through the thin locks more than usual.    “Tell me about your sister?”

 

 

 

 

“I don’t have a sister,” he lied.

 

 

 

 

I turned a folder towards him – containing both the DNA results that Maura acquired and the birth records Frost dug up.

 

 

 

 

“Janet, right?” Frost confirmed looking at him.

 

 

 

 

“Where is she Bill?”

 

 

 

 

“I don’t know!” he yelled.

 

 

 

 

“Okay, so here is what we’re going to do,” I stood from my seat. “I’m going to charge you with obstruction and harboring a suspect.  And that’s just the start.  Detective Frost here found a few pictures on your laptop of girls who are under the age of 18.  That is possession of child pornography.  If I find even one picture sent, we’re going to increase the charges to distribution.  Everything combined, you’re looking at 10-15 years hard time. And that’s without the distribution charge…”

 

 

 

 

The man looked at me with wide eyes. 

 

 

 

 

“Now tell me, where is Janet?” I demanded, leaning on the table – my face inches from his.

 

***                                                                                                                                                                               ***

 

 

 

 

Frost, Korsak, and I busted through the door of the tiny apartment and the scene before our eyes caught us off guard – but only for a minute second.  We had a job to do.  There were pictures plastered of both of our vics from the entrance of the door flowing into the general living spaces. Mixed in with our two vics was the picture of a third man – same build, hair color, eye color, and overall appearance. 

 

 

 

 

“Leave!” we heard the shrill voice screaming at us.

 

 

 

 

“Janet, we just want to talk,” I coaxed, walking towards the voice.

 

 

 

 

When I reached Janet’s bedroom, I found a man strapped to a chair with a disheveled woman standing about 6 to 7 feet away from him.   His eyes were pleading at me – scared and helpless. 

 

 

 

 

“Janet, put the gun down,” I eased, walking very slowly towards her. 

 

 

 

 

The woman began to cry and plead and once she lowered the gun slightly I jumped behind her and forcefully pinned her against the long particle-board dresser.  “You are under arrest for the murder of James Blanten and Jesse McCulley.  You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.” 

 

 

***                                                                                                                                                                                   ***

 

 

 

 

“Well that was a weird case,” I admitted helping myself to a beer and a seat in Maura’s apartment. 

 

 

 

 

“Indeed. Turner’s syndrome is very rare and there is no statistical research that shows those with Turner syndrome are more violent. However, there has been some research that shows a connection between Turner’s and Schizophrenia indicating that Turners syndrome occurs about three times more in female schizophrenics compared to the general female population.”

 

 

 

 

“Thank you Dr. Isles,” I mocked with a chuckle before guzzling down my beer.

 

 

 

 

Maura and I sat on her couch, drank and talked for what seemed like hours – hell it probably was hours.  Maura was not only a bad-ass colleague, she was my best friend.  We had been through so much together in the past few years and truth be told, she was the only person I really trusted. Of course I trusted my partner, Frost, and Korsak but I trusted Maura without reserve.  Maura held a part of my heart that I didn’t think anyone would ever be able to hold. I had been with a handful of guys – even thought I loved one or two, but nothing I felt for them even came remotely close to my love and devotion to Maura. We had been best friends for almost a decade – and at first I thought the closeness I felt with Maura was simply because I didn’t really have any girlfriends growing up. However, the closer we became, the more I realized that I was actually in love with her. I would never tell her – her friendship meant more to me than anything that could come of me telling her. However, something inside me said she felt it too with the way she would grab my hand to guide me places, her soft caresses as she passed by me, the way she said “I love you” every time I would get hurt or scared, and of course the way that she always knew when I was hurt or scared – it wasn’t like I actually told her or anyone else in the world.  Maura would just show up at my door randomly and invite herself in.  There were a few times she just invited herself right into my bed and slept beside me.  She always knew. Always.  I never understood how she knew, but she did.

 

 

 

 

“Okay so truth or dare?” Maura’s voice brought me out of my trance.

 

 

 

 

“What?”

 

 

 

 

“Truth or dare?”

 

 

 

 

“Maura, are you really suggesting we play a game created for six year olds?” I chuckled thinking _yes, that’s exactly what she’s doing_.  Maura was very intrigued by even the simplest of things sometimes.

 

 

 

 

“Not true. This game has been played for centuries – a version even as early as 1712.  It was used frequently as a military game with commanders.”

 

 

 

 

I just stared at her.  The woman was seriously a walking, talking, breathing encyclopedia and chalk full of absolutely useless knowledge.

 

 

 

“Plus its really fun and we could use some fun!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up and becoming almost child-like.

 

 

 

 

“Maura…” I pleaded even though I knew I was not getting out of it. 

 

 

 

 

“Truth or dare, Jane?” she re-asked, her voice a little firm.

 

 

 

 

 

“Fine, if we’re going to play something can’t we play something that isn’t truth or dare? Please, Maur…”

 

 

 

 

“Okay.  Hmmm…” she thought for a moment.  “Would you rather live in the wilderness far from civilization or live on the streets of a city as a homeless person?”  She asked, face bright and beaming.

 

 

 

 

“Really?”

 

 

 

 

“You said not truth or dare”.

 

 

 

 

“Are we 13?” I looked at her unyielding face.  I wasn’t sure why she was so set on playing children’s games, but in that moment I did remember that Maura was never a kid and this was not that unusual.

 

 

 

 

Maura was very sophisticated, proper, and elegant.  She had posh taste in music, art, theatre… she was very cultured.  But for someone who was so cultured, I could tell she also craved some of the simpler things in live – like playing softball with the Boston Homicide team and eating a (turkey) hot dog and even playing ridiculous games that she never played as a pre-teen.

 

 

 

 

“Fine… I guess homeless in the city. I know my way around and I can get the things I need. Plus, I wouldn’t be homeless cause I’d just hide out in your guest house,” I laughed.

 

 

 

 

“That’s cheating, you wouldn’t be able to live in my guest house.”

 

 

 

 

“Are you telling me if you saw me homeless on the streets you wouldn’t take me in, feed me, give me a place to sleep, and give me beer?” I questioned almost seriously.

 

 

 

 

“Maybe… if you stopped calling Bass a turtle,” she teased me.  “Okay ask me one…”

 

 

 

 

“Okay… ummm. Would you rather end hunger or hatred?” 

 

 

 

 

“Easy. Hunger.”

 

 

 

 

“Really?”

 

 

 

 

“Well, it’s philosophically impossible to end all hatred, but if we ended hunger, then children and adults could be more productive in society. It’s Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Before a person can even begin to think about concepts as abstract as love or hate, the person’s basic physiological needs and safety needs must be met.”

 

 

 

 

“It’s like sitting with Siri answering all the questions I never asked.”

 

 

 

 

We went on and on until we came up with the most ridiculous questions (and about 3 more drinks down).    Despite the infantile nature of the game, it had actually evolved into a basic laugh-fest – which, if I knew Maura (and I did) that is exactly why she pushed for something so immature: she knew I needed the laughter.

 

 

 

 

“Okay, okay…” she gasped between laughs.  “Would you rather… kiss Frost or… kiss me?”

 

 

 

 

I nearly spit out my beer.  “What?”

 

 

 

 

“Yea… kiss Frost or kiss me?”

 

 

 

 

“You’re drunk…”

 

 

 

She looked at me for a second. “Not drunk, the alcohol has just affected the level of glutamate, GABA, and dopamine neurotransmitters in my synapses which affect the cognitive functioning, decision making, and social responses.  Frost or me?”

 

 

 

 

“Not Frost.”

 

 

 

 

“So me?” she said bubbly.

 

 

 

 

“I guess if I would have to choose, yes, I’d choose you.”

 

 

 

 

“Jane…”  Maura whispered at me.

 

 

 

 

“Maura, you’re drunk…”

 

 

 

 

“I told you,” she began scooting closer to me. “I’m not drunk.”

 

 

 

 

“You’ve had a bottle and a half of wine – to yourself.”

 

 

 

 

“I’m not drunk, Jane.  When did you feel it?”

 

 

 

 

“Feel what?” I asked knowing exactly what she meant, but needing her to say it.  My head fell into my hands for a moment. I pushed my wild curly hair back and turned my head to look at her.

 

 

 

 

“This…” she said grabbing my hands and holding them in hers.

 

 

 

 

“Maura…” I trailed off, looking deep into her light hazel eyes.

 

 

 

 

“I’m a doctor Jane. I don’t make assumptions and I don’t think of possibilities. I deal with facts.”

 

 

 

 

“So what are the facts, doctor?”

 

 

 

 

She smiled at me.  “I know that there are many times when I’m with you that my sympathetic nervous system activates and stimulates my heart causing positive chronotropy, inotropy, and conduction velocity.”

 

 

 

 

I looked at her trying to figure out what she said.

 

 

 

 

“My heart rate increases and my breath becomes shallow and I exhibit nervousness and excitement.”

 

 

 

 

I looked down at the floor, my chest tightening, constricting my breath.

 

 

 

 

“I also know that you exhibit pupillary dilation, transient redness on your face and chest, and episodic tachypnea.”

 

 

 

 

I shook my head lightly. I still refused to tell her – but she already knew.

 

 

 

 

“And what do those facts tell you, Dr. Isles?”

 

 

 

 

“It tells me that we both want to be more than friends.”

 

 

 

 

I looked into her eyes – I couldn’t deny it.  Maura was also so blunt and straight to the point – plus, she couldn’t lie.  Maura was so strict on being honest because if she lied, she would temporarily break out in hives. It was actually quite comical and I used it against her probably more than I should – but she was an easy target.

 

 

 

 

“Maura, I don’t want to risk our friendship,” I admitted.  “What we have…you’re my best friend. I worry any lines that we cross could hurt us.”

 

 

 

 

“Some research suggests that a relationship with your best friend tend to have more positive effects than negative.”

 

 

 

“Relationship?” I questioned suddenly – standing up.  I felt the alcohol rush to my head, but only for a moment, her words sobering me up very quickly.

 

 

 

 

“Maura…I…”

 

 

 

 

“Jane, I’m not suggesting we get into a relationship…” she stood up and walked over to me.  “But I think maybe its time we, at least see what this is.” Maura strode confidently towards me.

 

 

 

 

“Maura…” I moved away from my position, but the doctor grabbed my wrist and spun me to her. Her light hazel eyes looked up at me.  

 

 

 

 

My gaze traveled to her lips and her gaze to mine.  My heart felt as if it was breaking my chest.  Was this really going to happen? I should break her grasp. I could. I could easily overpower Maura and break free without hurting her. The more I pondered on the thought, the more I realized what I had to do, but I couldn’t – her eyes were staring back at me now.  The look scared me but it also made me feel really, really good. No one had ever looked at me the way Maura did.  Not Casey, not Agent Dean, no one.  In truth, Maura was the only person I had ever been fully comfortable around – that was scary too.

 

 

 

 

Her lithe fingers pushed back my curly hair. I could feel her warm breath on my chin.  Everything in me screamed to kiss her, but a battle was manifesting inside of me.  I couldn’t. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. She was my best friend – to risk everything to see if there was more… I had already almost lost her once when I shot Paddy Doyle, I couldn’t bring myself to take a risk at losing her again. The time that passed with Maura not talking to me after that incident was the worst period in my life and I had no desire to revisit that feeling. I wasn’t good at being a part of a couple.  I was hard to love. I wasn’t demanding, but that was part of the problem. My decisions about work and life were typically focused on the job –or, well, Maura.  I don’t know that I would have given my life for Casey or Dean but I would have given my life for Maura – gladly.  Maura was the one thing I cared about more than anything – including the job, including my family. I loved my family – my big, crazy, drive-me-batshit family. I would do anything for them. But something inside me told me I’d do more for Maura.

 

 

 

 

 “Jane…” she whispered against my lips, her eyes searching mine, one hand in my hair and the other trailing the skin of my arm. She leaned in, her lips just barely touching mine – but it was enough.  The battle died inside of me and I grabbed the sides of her face in response, crashing our lips together heatedly. I walked her backwards until her back hit the wall. Her hands clawed at my back, but I grabbed her wrists and pinned them forcefully above her head. There were so many nights that I laid awake in my bed dreaming of this exact moment.  

 

 

 

 

Our tongues met and parted – battling out for dominance. Her lips were soft and moist in contrast to her strong and unyielding tongue.  No amount of dreams or imagination could have prepared me for what it felt like to kiss Maura in the flesh.  I pressed my body into her arching form – my head swimming to the point I nearly felt that I was going to faint – either from the kissing or rush of alcohol I wasn’t sure.  I knew Maura would have some scientific explanation for the physiological events at hand, but the only thing I really cared about was feeling her body arching against mine.

 

 

 

 

I groaned into her, her open mouth swallowing the sound. I let go of her arms to tangle my hands in her hair, but her hands had a different idea. Her fingers expertly worked the hem of my red shirt upwards and over my head – my white camisole tagging along with it.  I felt her fingers on my bare skin – her nails tracing the curvature of my muscles. I lowered my arms and slid my hands under the hem of her tight, red and black dress – the fabric bunching at her hips.  I traced the bare skin I found on her lower thighs – my heart racing in response. 

 

 

 

 

Was this really about to happen? Were we already going for it? It wouldn’t be the first time either of us slept with someone we just met – but we didn’t just meet. We’d known each other longer than any of the guys we slept with, so why did it feel so new? Maura wasn’t really one for over thinking something once she analyzed the facts and came to a conclusion. I wasn’t that lucky. In my job I was confident and assured. In my personal life, I always overanalyzed situations – especially new ones. Kissing Maura, feeling her body against mine, her fingers grabbing at my bare skin was no different.

 

 

 

 

Maura grabbed my hand and let it to the back of her neck where I felt a metal circle enclosed around a zipper.   “Jane, unzip me,” she ordered against my lips before plunging her tongue back into my mouth.

 

 

 

 

I held her close and slid the zipper down her back as she began to shimmy out of the soft fabric, revealing plump breasts filling the light blue bra and eventually the matching panties.  The dress pooled at the floor and Maura stepped out of the circle of fabric. I pushed against her roughly, feeling her soft skin against my hard abs. Maura’s hands slipped to the front of my waist and began unfastening my belt buckle.  Thankfully I had always been in the habit of removing my gun, badge, and phone from the belt – had I not, it would have made Maura’s actions a little restricted. She expertly worked the leather belt from its buckle and quickly moved onto the button and metal fastener of my dress pants. She slid the zipper down and pushed the fabric off my ass and to the floor. 

 

 

 

 

My lips were recaptured heatedly – forcefully.  Maura pushed herself off the wall and walked me backwards through her living room until we hit the hallway, at which point she thrust herself against me – my back hitting the supporting wall a little more forcefully than I think she anticipated.   I tangled my hands in her golden hair as she moved her hands behind her back and unsnapped her bra, her heavy, naked breasts falling onto the skin of chest.  She stopped kissing me – her eyes meeting mine, searching for doubt or hesitation. I don’t know what she saw – probably a million and one emotions but I only saw one emotion in hers – adoration.

 

 

 

 

“You okay?” she whispered.

 

 

 

 

I nodded, trying to catch my breath.

 

 

 

 

She grabbed my wrist and led me to her room, before laying down on her very expensive, Temperpedic mattress covered in a satin down comforter.  She pulled me down with her, my weight falling on my palms and knees as I leaned over her.  My gaze traveled her face – the sharp lines of her jaw, the light laugh lines – until I reached the contours of her neck and her lightly freckled chest – her plump breasts and tight nipples casting shadows on her cream-colored skin.   She threaded her fingers into my hair and brought me down for a lingering kiss before reaching behind my back and unclasping my bra. The straps fell down my arms and one by one I lifted my palms off the mattress to rid myself of the unwanted garment.  When I went to regain my balance on both palms, Maura took the opportunity to flip our positions.

 

 

 

 

Her hair fell like a curtain as she looked down at me – her gaze piercing me.  She kissed my lips briefly but moved her mouth to my jaw line, then traced the muscles of my neck with her tongue, lightly nipping the taut skin with her teeth.  My hips rose in response to the sensation – it was strange through.  Even with Casey my body didn’t react this sensitively, but it was with Maura.  I felt myself pool at my center when Maura licked the ridge of my ear, her palm covering my small breast in her hands, her fingers tracing the large nipple until my eyes rolled back into my head.  I let out a small moan and I could feel her grin into my neck. 

 

 

 

 

 

“Did you know that the stimulation of women's nipples promotes the production and release of oxytocin and prolactin, which is primarily responsible for sexual gratification?” she whispered against my skin, kissing down towards the valley between my breasts.

 

 

 

 

My head was clouded and I had no idea exactly what Dr. Google said, but it should haven’t surprised me that her ‘fun facts’ would have been transferred into this arena. It was just so Maura.

 

 

 

 

She enclosed her mouth around one nipple and my hips rose up to her as I cried out in response.

 

 

 

 

She chuckled before resituating herself onto my hips – putting enough weight and pressure that I couldn’t move them.

 

 

 

 

“The anticipation increases the pleasure,” she husked before licking around the other nipple.

 

 

 

 

My hands flew to her hair as she played with my very sensitive breasts – holding her there, encouraging her.  

 

 

 

 

“Maur…” I breathed. 

 

 

 

 

She looked up at me and smiled mischievously   - who knew Maura had a teasing side?  I mean, she was always funny and unknowingly flirty, but apparently she was also a real tease. 

 

 

 

 

She moved from my breasts and began a descending assault on my stomach – my abs flinching each time her lips made contact with my skin.  She shifted her body between my legs and I could feel her large, soft breasts against my heated mount. The knowledge that Maura Isles- my best friend, my confidant, the woman who I loved more than any person on the planet- was inches from my most intimate place was almost too much to handle.  I definitely did not wake up today thinking that this was how the day was going to end.  A caught killer? Sure.  A few beers? Sure?  One of Maura’s crazy stunts or games? Sure.  All that could be a typical week. But Maura – the woman I long ago realized that I had fallen in love with…my supposed straight best friend… making love to me, with me…? No. That had not been expected or even anticipated.  But now that it was reality and not some fantasy in my head, caused all of the atoms within my body to buzz. 

 

 

 

 

Maura hooked her fingers into my underwear and eased them off of my thighs and over my feet. My legs spread open, inviting her back to me, but before she settled back down into her transient home, she eased off her own garment.  Our naked bodies made contact for the first time – no fabric between and the sensation caused a burst of confidence and fierceness within me.  I grabbed Maura by the arms and bucked my hips once – flipping her over and onto her back swiftly. I quickly maneuvered myself between her thighs and ground myself into her while attacking her neck with my lips.  She gasped – her hands tangling in my hair.

 

 

 

 

I descended down her creamy skin, reaching her breasts.  It wasn’t the first time I had seen Maura’s breasts, I mean we had changed in front of each other before, we had to have a decontamination shower in the same room before, and of course we won’t forget that one time she was framed and I had to collect all her clothes in the interrogation room.  But this was the first time I saw her breasts _and_ was being urged to touch them.  I sat back on my knees – her legs bent and resting on my hipbones. I tested the weight of each breast in my palm, each nipple grazing the scar on each of my palms.  She shivered. I guess the scar tissue, weird as it sounded, added extra friction, hence extra sensation.  I leaned down and kissed the tip of the right nipple before pulling it into my mouth and rolling my tongue against the bud.  She struggled not to grind her hips up into me, but the pained look on her face told me she wanted friction somewhere else too.  I leaned back down and played with her breasts for several minutes, testing different techniques with my tongue and my fingers – trying to find the exact pattern that would make her come undone.

 

 

 

 

“Here’s a fact for you, Maura… did you know that about 30% of women can achieve orgasm from nipple play alone?”  I whispered into her breasts between sucks and licks. 

 

 

 

 

“I…knew…that,” she breathed, barely able to keep control.  “However, I would very much rather you didn’t try to see if I was one of the 30%,” she choked out.

 

 

 

 

“Oh yea? It could be an experiment… you love your experiments,” I teased – my natural confidence coming out a little more fluid now.

 

 

 

 

“Please, Jane…no…” she begged, biting on the back of her hand.

 

 

 

 

“Why not, Dr. Isles?”

 

 

 

 

She moaned loudly as I ground forcefully into her, my tongue circling her erect nipple.

 

 

 

 

“I believe the term is, ‘that’s mean’,” she forced out with strained breath.  

 

 

 

 

I sat up on my knees and trailed my finger tips from the swell of her breasts to her taut stomach and down to her inner thighs.  My gaze followed my trailing fingers, but stopped when my gaze met her soaked core. Maura was extremely wet.  I placed one finger at the bottom of her slit and moved it upwards, slowly – being careful not to spread her lips -  accumulating all of the stray juice.  Maura cried out loudly – and begged me not to stop.   This was actually really fun. I could get used to it.  I repeated my actions, this time barely spreading her outer lips.  She moaned loudly in response. I began to tease her again and again, exploring her lips and her center slowly – inch by inch.  I paid close attention to her movements, her breath, and the way she bit her lip.  I knew I was teasing her, but I could always blame it on that I didn’t know the female anatomy well enough to pleasure her. I mean, sure, I knew myself, but each woman is different. She had medical knowledge (and the entire contents of Wikipedia) to fall back on in that big brain of hers, I was much more hands on – testing and rechecking. 

 

 

 

 

It never occurred to me that women could be shaped so differently, but I had to admit that was half the fun of it.  Her entire body was different than mine – her large breasts had smaller, tighter nipples, her center resembled a swimming pool, her outer lips were puffy, velvety, and warm, her inner lips were much more sensitive and less velvety but still soft and warm.  From my caresses I deemed she really enjoyed touches and stimulation around her opening. During one pass by, I slid in my fingers to her tight channel – only until the first knuckle before pulling out.  Maura groaned loudly in approval before following up with pleading whimpers.

 

 

 

 

Maura’s skin was hot to the touch and her muscles were trembling.  I caught her gaze – her eyes clouded, the light hazel color now dark and glazed over. I straddled one of her thighs and sat back while running two fingers the entirety of her slit. I felt her clit throb under the pad of my index finger, the rest of her sex burning with liquid heat.  I positioned two of my fingers at her entrance and pushed in the moment I re-caught her gaze. I wanted to see her face when I entered her for the first time. Her core was tight – the muscles contracting around the intrusion, drawing me deeper inside of her. I slowly withdrew my fingers part-way before re-entering, gaining a slow but steady rhythm.  Maura let out a string of stifled curses – something I had not really heard from her before, except in extremely heated situations and even then more than a “damn” or “hell” was rare.

I stabilized myself on my right hand, my dominant hand working in and out of Maura’s center. Her face was flushed, her breath came in gasps, and her expression was strained.  I curled my fingers inside of her, dragging the tips on each retraction of my hand while increasing the rhythm and sliding my thumb between her lips. I captured her throbbing bud under the pad of my thumb – rubbing it slowly and intently in attempts to contrast the now hard and laborious thrusts of my fingers inside of her.  

 

 

 

 

The dark blonde’s body rose up to match the thrust of my fingers – her hips bucking wildly.  I leaned down and pinned her beneath me, her hands moved to grip my shoulders. Short manicured nails dug into the flesh of my back – the stinging pain serving as the best motivator urging me to pump into her harder, faster…my thumb now following suit with small fast circles on her erect nub.  My lips descended onto hers, my tongue entered her mouth and swirled around her tongue expertly before withdrawing again.  I moved my lips to her ear.

 

 

 

 

“Come for me, Maura.  It’s okay, I’ve got you…”

 

 

 

 

One more pump of my fingers – one more pass of my thumb and I felt my fingers nearly break inside of her - nails cut into flesh and Maura’s screams filled the silence of the large room. The sound was like nothing I had experienced before – it was a glorious sound.   The woman’s sweat-coated body fell limp underneath me – her core still spasming around my fingers as a new rush of liquid flowed down my fingers and onto my wrist. 

 

 

 

 

I laid my head on her chest to listen to her heartbeat, my fingers still embedded into her throbbing core.  I was amazed by the feel of the inside of Maura Isles after orgasm.  When the spasms settled, I withdrew my fingers – with a small protest from Maura’s lips.  My hand was soaked with the juice that flowed out of her.  I wanted to taste her, but I wasn’t sure this was how I wanted to taste her for the first time – licking her off my fingers.  It seemed almost like a cheat until Maura’s huskily encouraged me with one word: “taste”.  I brought the soaked fingers up to my lips and tested the liquid with the tip of my tongue.  I wasn’t sure what to expect – if it tasted like a guy’s I didn’t want to offend Maura. However, I was pleasantly surprised.  She was sweet – like warm strawberries and champagne.

 

 

 

 

When I had finished cleaning off my fingers, I laid down beside her. She turned to face me – her energy finally coming back little by little.  I smiled at her – things had definitely shifted between us and I was okay with that.  Maura pushed my wild hair back behind my shoulders and drew me in for a kiss – tasting herself on my tongue.  The kiss began slowly but quickly escalated when Maura’s naked body crawled on top of me.  She broke the kiss so suddenly that I opened my eyes to meet her gaze – wondering what was wrong.

 

 

 

 

“My turn,” she growled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> So apparently Rizzoli and Isle's is in much need of fanfiction! I received so many comments and personal messages and it just made my heart swell up. Just to be clear- I have no idea where this is going or what this is doing. This may be a story. This may be purely smut. This may be a mixture of both. I have no idea. HOWEVER, since apparently this fandom needs some writing (hopefully i can provide quality writing...i hope??), I want to get YOU INVOLVED!
> 
>  
> 
> SO here's your homework! If you like what you are reading and want to read something in particular or have a scene you want played out by our girls - inbox me, tell me what you want and maybe you'll see it come up. Sound good? I hope! 
> 
>  
> 
> So if you like what you read, tell me - if you hate what you read...umm...lie to me? 
> 
>  
> 
> Love you all!

Maura descended onto my neck, keeping my wild curls at bay with one hand. She kissed and bit the sensitive flesh of my pulse-point until I was writhing uncontrollably beneath her.  She had a knee on each side of my hips – not allowing me to gain any access to friction and definitely not allowing me the ability to move my hips the way they craved. She eventually trailed her tongue up to my ear and licked the outer ridge before biting down on my ear lobe. I had never realized that my ears were sensitive or could even be a turn on until Maura licked the ridge earlier in the night. The first time she had, a shiver went down my spine – this time was no different.  She grazed her teeth along the edge of my ear, smiling into the flesh after noting my body’s automatic response.

 

 

 

I raised my hands up to tangle in her hair, to keep her close, but she intercepted my wrists and pinned my hands above my head, holding them to the soft mattress below with her strong and steady fingers.  While holding my hands in place, she continued trailing her tongue to different parts of my neck and shoulders – tasting and biting the flesh she came into contact with.  My body was already responding to the teasing of innocent skin, but then Maura reached a large, hard nipple and slowly drew it into her mouth once before retreating and trailing slow, hard kissing around the areola and surrounding skin – leaving my body craving and needing more contact. 

 

 

 

I tried to buck my hips upward to get her attention, but she ignored my pleas. “Patience” was all she said. 

 

 

 

She moved her mouth back to my lips and kissed me deeply – her tongue immediately engaging in fierce battle with my own muscle.  She licked the bottom of my tongue, encouraging me to follow her back into her mouth. When my tongue breached her lips, she wrapped her pedals around and sucked on the tip gently, eliciting a guttural moan.  My head was spinning – and I was almost certain the alcohol that was consumed earlier was not playing a role at this moment.   She released my tongue to kiss me again and extended the tip of her tongue to draw a line across the lowest part of my lower lip.  A tingling sensation shot from my lips to my jaw, up my neck and into my head.  I broke the kiss to regain breath.

 

 

 

“So many don’t know that little trick. The ultrasensitive buccal nerve lines the lower lip and is typically disregarded erogenous zone. Makes you tingle…” Maura teased, breathing against my lips – her eyes dark and glossy – almost predatory. 

 

 

 

Of course, Dr. Google had a fun fact.  “Maur…”

 

 

 

“Patience, Jane,” she demanded.

 

 

 

“I have been patient…”

 

 

 

“People who engage in tantric practice have been known to have hours of foreplay,” she stated softly, moving her lips to my rib cage and biting down gently before caressing the bruise with her tongue.

 

 

 

That’s it – I was done.  I was a puddle and there was nothing more that I could do except to lay back and let Maura work me like a little toy. The problem was she knew too much.  A guy gets hard and then its 5-20 minutes of intercourse and it’s done.  Maura seemed very happy enjoying her time playing with every cell of my naked form – except the cells that actually craved being touched.  She wouldn’t let me grind against her or move on her thigh – she wouldn’t let me touch her… I was in hell.  Absolute, glorious, painful, amazing hell.

 

 

 

She moved her hands down my torso, scratching lightly at the flesh as her tongue made its way to my breast – teasing me. She kissed and licked every area but the area I _needed_ – and she knew it.  I was not one to beg, ever. But if she kept it up, I was heading in that direction very quickly.  She looked up at me with loving eyes, her expression softening when she saw my pained look. She licked her thumb and pointer finger before recapturing my gaze and rolling my painfully hard nipple between her fingers.  I groaned loudly, my head thrashing to the side.   I subconsciously moved my hands towards her, but her voice brought me back to reality.

 

 

 

“Keep them above your head or I tease you that much longer. Do not move them until I tell you that you can,” she directed sternly. 

 

 

 

A new course of heated liquid pooled between my thighs – not that she could really tell as I was clenching my thighs so tightly together trying to relieve some of the aching strain.  I tangled my fingers into my hair tightly, looking Maura directly in the eyes.  God I didn’t know if I could be teased much longer. Maybe Maura was doing one of her weird experiments and this time I was the subject and she was testing to see how long I could go through this glorious torture before I spontaneously combusted.  I wasn’t sure, but all I knew is that was exactly what was going to happen if I didn’t get some release, soon.  It was absolute torture because it was like Maura knew all of my sensitive spots without even trying. She knew where and how to touch me to completely ignite my body –and had only figured it out during her first pass of my body (something none of the men I had been with had ever done, including Casey or Dean).  

 

 

 

Maura noted my tangled hands and smiled at me before dropping her head back down and capturing a taut nipple with her lips – drawing it entirety into her mouth initially and then letting everything but the tip of the nipple go. She sucked on the tip vigorously, breaking only to roll her tongue along the bud. She found a rhythm with her mouth, her fingers on the other nipple keeping time.  She moaned loudly into my sensitive flesh – which only served to increase my frustration.   She switched breasts and mimicked her previous actions – this time taking her time licking the nipple slowly and lightly grazing the abandoned nipple with the pad of her thumb. 

 

 

 

As her rhythm on my nipple increased, so did the rocking of her hips into me. She shifted her lower body to move in between my legs – my soaked core pressing against her pelvis.  She began grinding into me – my throbbing center thankful for the rhythmic pressure. I locked my legs around her hips – pulling her in closer and tighter to me – my hips moving upwards during her downward grind, effectively increasing the pressure and pleasure. The friction wasn’t much, but I was absolutely soaked and so ready to have a release that my body began tricking itself and I felt a low pressure build in my lower stomach. 

 

 

 

Maura stopped her movements and I chastised myself for letting it show on my face – she knew exactly what was happening.  But instead of moving away completely, like I thought she was going to, she snaked a hand between us and let her middle finger gather the wetness seeping out of my core. I shook from the sensation of her fingers on the sensitive skin. She slowly moved her finger, studying the landscape of my pussy – I’m sure testing to see just how different it was from hers.  Maura and I were opposites in almost every way, it was no surprise that we were different here too.  She spread my smaller lips and let her fingers slide through the wetness, down to my entrance and up to my throbbing nub several times. 

 

 

 

Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sensation – a tingling, heightened arousal, the walls of my empty core contacted in want, my nub throbbed mercilessly and my head thrashed from side to side.

 

 

 

“You like that, huh, Jane?” She whispered into my ear.

 

 

 

“What…?” I breathed, barely able to focus on what was going on.

 

 

 

“You see, what many men don’t know is that most of the nerve endings that contribute to the female orgasm are on the surface of the vulva… so by focusing and teasing the labia majora and minora, the Skene glands, and other areas around the actual vagina, it creates a much more positive experience,” she explained, her fingers continuing to rub her fingers against my inner lips and my entrance. 

 

 

 

I moaned loudly -  my fingers digging into my scalp to keep from grabbing at her skin or overpowering her.   My hips rocked up against her, as she slid two long fingers into my tight channel.  She slowly drew them out and pushed the back in, creating an agonizingly slow rhythm- causing me to cry out loudly, a string of curses flowing from my lips.   She continued to pump in and out of me, her lips making their way to a large nipple – teasing me relentlessly.   It felt as if she was playing me – knowing exactly what my body needed, but not really giving it to me in an effort to keep all control. 

 

 

 

On each pump inside of me, Maura ground her hips into mine, adding a little extra pressure, extra weight to the slow thrust.   She wiggled her thumb up between my lips and captured my small bud under the pad of her thumb. I nearly levitated off the mattress, with a loud, guttural, “Fuck”.   She moved her thumb in small, slow circles, teasing the entrapped nub beneath. My breath caught in my throat as the slow pressure built in my lower belly.  Maura’s actions were enough to bring me on the brink of the edge and keep me there, but (and she knew) they were not enough to send me over. 

 

 

 

“Maur…. Please…” I begged, losing all my reserve and all the pride I had in ‘not’ begging.  I just needed to feel her – more than I already was.

 

 

 

 Maura let go of my nipple with a ‘pop’ before lifting her head to look me in the eyes.  The moment her eyes turned from teasing to serious, her thrusts inside me quickened, her fingers more forceful as she added a third finger stretching my walls. The small amount of pain from the stretch of my core was nothing in comparison to the amazing feeling of each drag of her fingers along my inner wall.  She sped up the circles on my clit as she worked me into oblivion.  With each thrust I cried out – the pressure building and building until I finally was pushed over the edge. My body stiffened and my inner walls tightened around her fingers, holding them in place just before my warm liquid coated Maura’s elegant fingers.   

 

 

 

She stilled her fingers and her thumb, but did not extract them. My inner walls continued to flutter against her.  She kissed me deeply – her tongue exploring all the depths and crevices of my mouth before I could even properly catch my breath.   My legs fell onto the mattress – still wide open as she was settled between my thighs.  The more she kissed me, occasionally sucking on my tongue, or biting the flesh of my lip, the more I felt my body re-awakening. 

 

 

 

I had ever had more than one orgasm at a time.  Was it normal to have multiple?  Apparently, Maura thought it was normal as she was already rousing my body.  I cried out when she moved the once-still fingers inside of me, dragging the tips of her fingers roughly but slowly against my inner wall.  She didn’t thrust inwards hard – just enough to where I felt my channel expand to accommodate her – the walls fluttering against the intrusion.  She continued to drag her finger tips against me until my body responded. My breath came in gasps as I lifted my hips up to meet her thrusts, silently begging for them to be just a little harder, a little faster. 

 

 

 

Maura broke the kiss and smiled down at me.  “You can do one more, can’t you?” she teased, her fingers working in my hot core.

 

 

 

Never stopping her movements, she kissed my neck and my shoulders – making her way down to my stomach and eventually setting her face right between my thighs. 

 

 

 

I inhaled sharply – suddenly nervous.  As confident as I tended to appear to be was actually just how self-conscious I was. I mean, I guess I had levels. I was accustomed to working out in a sports bra and yoga pants or shorts – so showing my abs (which also looked damn good) was nothing. However, I was not accustomed to showing someone my breasts – except during sex, and I definitely wasn’t accustomed to someone’s face being right between my thighs.  Out of all the sexual encounters I had experienced, I could count on one hand how many times someone’s face was was between my thighs.  I could count on one finger how many of those times actually ended up being a positive experience.

 

 

 

“You can let go of your hair, Jane,” Maura directed just before licking my lips, her tongue finding my sensitive nub almost immediately.

 

 

 

My hands flew to her hair – tangling in the dark blonde locks. Maura took her time licking, kissing, and nipping at my lips and clit.  She didn’t rush through it, but rather took her time, moaning into my hot, wet center.  This was new. I had never had someone take their time or take the time to moan in pleasure at the taste of my pussy. The vibrations from her moan coursed through me – igniting a new energy inside of my sex.

 

 

 

As my hips began to move faster against her face, she increased the speed of her fingers and of her tongue, bringing me closer and closer to another orgasm.  The feeling of her tongue on my sex was so different than her fingers inside – her lips and tongue were soft and smooth compared to the hard and unyielding thrusts of her fingers. The dual sensation was almost too much for me to bear – but I refused to let go just let…it felt so damn good.  I tightened my grip into her hair as she circled my clit with her tongue before drawing the tip into her mouth and sucking on it lightly.  I screamed into the air hoping my loud curses would not be heard by the house next door or worse, my mother in the guest house.   

 

 

 

I felt the familiar pressure build in my lower belly – my walls tightening around Maura’s thrusting fingers.

 

 

 

“Don’t you dare come, Jane Rizzoli,” she commanded before thrusting her tongue back against my clit.

 

 

 

My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I squeezed my eyelids tight, trying to focus on anything but the building pressure.  She drew her fingers out almost completely before slamming them back into my core again and again as she grazed my throbbing, aching nub with her teeth in between sucking it into her mouth.  I wasn’t sure how long I could hold on – my hips were bucking against her wildly on their own accord. I no longer had any control of my body. My reactions were completely subconscious and almost primal. 

 

 

 

I felt a change in sensation as Maura’s fingers moved to rub my clit roughly and her tongue plunged deep into my core.  My body rose up off the bed – surprised at the different intrusion, my walls trying to grab ahold of her quickly moving muscle.  The pressure had reached it maximum and I was slipping – I couldn’t hold on.

 

 

 

“Maur…I can’t… I’m going to…”

 

 

 

She moved her tongue out of me. “Not until I say,” she commanded again – plunging her strong muscle back into my spasming core.

 

 

 

I groaned loudly, releasing her hair and bringing my left fist to my mouth, biting down on the flesh of my hand to keep myself from going over that edge.

 

 

 

Maura started an unpredictable rhythm of her tongue and fingers – moving her tongue in and out of me, then slipping her fingers in for a few strong thrusts while licking my clit or sucking on it for a minute. I couldn’t foreshadow her next move and that unpredictability drove me absolutely insane.  I couldn’t hold on any longer – the next time she thrust her fingers inside of my core, my walls gripped them tightly – nearly breaking them – and held onto them, spasming against her as she licked and sucked at my clit. I tried to keep from exploding – but I was losing that battle very quickly.

 

 

 

She reached her free hand up and rolled my nipple between her thumb and forefinger – pulling on the nipple intermittently. 

 

 

 

“I can’t…I can’t…” I cried out, my back arching off the bed, my release crashing over me in forceful waves.

 

 

 

Maura’s movements never slowed, in fact, I think she moved her fingers faster and harder inside of me, pounding into my core, fucking me – completely fucking me.  Her tongue rolling on my clit at lightening speed, catching some of the stray juice that poured out of my cunt.   The louder I screamed, the harder she fucked up.  It was like Maura knew every angle to shift her wrist so she hit every tender spot – causing another wave to crash over me. 

 

 

 

Bright white lights continued to flash behind my eye lids – even as she began to slow her movements, bringing me back down from crashing over the edge.  After a few minutes, she withdrew her fingers, only to replace them with a soft, lapping tongue. She was not trying to reawaken my arousal, but simply was…for lack of a better term… loving me. Her tongue was languid, soft and warm – cleaning up all of the juice that spilled from my release.  In between slow, tender licks, Maura rubbed her cheek against my trembling thigh and kissed it sweetly. 

 

 

 

My hair was plastered to my head and I knew my wild curls had to be almost straight as they were soaked in sweat.  My breath was shallow and my muscles were still trembling.  It wasn’t that I had had bad sex before, I just hadn’t had sex like this before and I was sure that between it being new with Maura, the feelings I had had for her for years, and that she seemed to know about every nerve in the female anatomy – it was just intensified by like a gazillion.

 

 

 

“How are you feeling?”  Maura asked tenderly, pushing my soaked hair away from my face.

 

 

 

I looked at her the same way I always looked at her when she asked stupid questions.

 

 

 

 

My mouth was dry and I couldn’t respond verbally. Apparently, Maura caught onto that as just moments later she excused herself and came back to the room with a glass of water.  I sat up – my entire body still shaky – and took the glass from her with trembling hands.  The cool liquid felt exquisite going down my throat and quenching the thirst.   

 

 

 

She took the glass from me and set it down on the coaster on her nightstand.  Maura was seriously the only person in the world I could imagine having a coaster in their bedroom.  She got up off the bed and began to pull down the comforters and sheets – helping me lift my body off the mattress so she could get that side too.  She crawled back onto the bed and draped the covers over us both before opening an arm as to say ‘come here’.  Normally, I didn’t like to be held – heck, I didn’t even like to be hugged – but for some reason Maura, even platonically, did not fall into that category. She was the one person I didn’t mind touching me or hugging me or seeing me vulnerable and it had been that way almost from the start.  Whatever walls I had up to every other person, well, they never applied to Maura. 

 

 

 

I rolled onto my side and placed my head down on her large breast.  I immediately understood the fascination of breasts with men – they were comfortable, like a Tempur-Pedic pillow.  Maura wrapped a strong arm around me and softly played with the skin of my back and the ends of my hair.  Even though this interaction was on a totally different level, it was not the first time I had laid down on Maura’s chest. Whenever something horrid had happened or I was feeling incredibly scared, Maura always opened herself up to me and, true to character, played with the ends of my hair or trailed her fingers along my clothed spine.  I was not in that horrific space today, but I was still experiencing a certain level of vulnerability and Maura’s actions were no less than what anyone would have expected.  I fell asleep laying in her arms – as I had done many times before. Only now, there was a shift in our paradigm. But I would not think of it anymore tonight.  No.  I would wait to see what morning brought and just let myself be tangled up with the woman that I had fallen in love with the first time I saw her, nearly a decade ago.

 


End file.
